The Diary of the Harbinger of Doom
by Sleepy Soviet
Summary: The diary entries of one of the more intriguing champions in the League. I am now at Basic Training and will resume writing upon my return to a place with internet.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The idea for this came to me recently and I decided to go ahead and write it while waiting for the readership of my other story to decide what course it is going to take. I don't know if this will be a oneshot or a series. We'll see. Enjoy and please review. Be aware that flames will be used to heat the Institute of War.

**Disclaimer: I don't own LoL. Otherwise, Hecarim would have gotten his much-needed buff by now. **

**The Diary of Fiddlesticks, Harbinger of Doom**

**Inside Cover**

For some odd reason the Head Summoner has seen fit to provide me with this book. It's not even particularly interesting, as it is completely blank. He quickly explained that this was for me to write in however, which makes some sense. I have seen other champions with similar tomes after all. What purpose this suits I do not know. But, seeing as I'm stuck off the fields with nothing to do, I can use it to pass the time.

**Several pages are filled with sketches of crows and what is assumed to be the inside of Fiddlestick's abode.**

1/21

According to the squishy humans who guard my chamber, it is "cold." I have no idea what they mean, but I suppose it must be some sort of social occasion, as whenever this "cold" happens the summoners perform an odd dance for several minutes at a time. Then they stop, and several minutes later begin anew. After watching this odd display for most of the morning, I have come to the conclusion that most of the humans originating from this world are completely insane.

I was finally summoned today, which was a nice break from the dullness of the last few weeks. Our team composition was decent, consisting of Nasus in the top lane against his brother Renekton, Lux in the middle against Mordekaiser, Ashe and the barbarian Tryndamere in the bottom lane against Sona and Vayne, and yours truly in the jungle against Nocturne. Ashe and Tryndamere in particular drew my attention. Those two have become quite inseparable lately. Always hugging and cuddling around the Institute while all manner of creatures congratulate them on something called a "marriage." From my limited understanding (the summoners refuse to let me outside of my tower chamber without a battalion of guards so it's hard to satisfy my curiosity) it is some sort of mating contract. Humans are such strange creatures.

Unfortunately, matches leave very little time to ponder the mysteries of this world as I'm expected to run around the Fields helping my allies secure kills. If you ask me (which nobody does), the League's mission makes very little sense. It professes to bring peace and stability to the land by acting as a third party in international disputes and paints itself as the only hope against bloodshed. Yet, it achieves this missive with bloodshed. While no champion actually dies, it's very hypocritical. I suppose this is because no infants were around to explain this to the League's founding members.

Regardless of the League's failings (of which there are plenty, believe me) it has successfully become Valoran's arbiter. Since its inception it has become the most popular form of entertainment and boasts the largest collection of mighty warriors in the history of this plane. It's almost as if someone was maneuvering the various nations to surrender their best fighters so that a certain individual named Leblanc could seize power over the entire continent. Yet, it seems as though everyone is completely unaware of this. That wondering how I could have acquired the Black Rose's deepest secrets, the answer is quite simple: one of their couriers made the mistake of using one of my crows as a messenger bird. The crow of course flew straight to me and being the curious creature that I am, couldn't help but take a quick peek before sending the letter to its intended recipient, Jericho Swain. I shall have to keep several crows watching those two. I'm certain that the "XOXOXOXOXOXO" at the end of the letter was some sort of code.

Back on topic, the match went rather well, with Nasus casually invading the enemy base by teleporting to a ward and obliterating their nexus while the rest of us distracted the enemy. I claimed several kills and suffered no deaths. It's nice being controlled by a cautious summoner for a change. He even bought me a Zhonya's Hourglass!

After the standard after match handshakes, the two teams dispersed into the showers and Nocturne and I to our respective prisons.

A/N: That's all my inspiration has covered for now. Please let me know how I can improve this story or my writing. Until next we meet.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here's chapter two. It takes me so loooooooooooooong to come up with these, but luckily I can browse other fics for ideas. R&R please and enjoy.

Ttran2323: Glad you enjoyed this! I had the idea bouncing around in my head for a while and decided to act on it for once.

bobyjhon132: Yeah, I thought it would be appropriate since he hasn't seen anything outside his tower besides the Fields since his summoning. Plus, it adds a lot of humor to the situation. Here's m0ar.

**Disclaimer: I don't own LoL. If I did, I would make myself head of the lore division.**

1/23

The League's newest addition, Thresh, passed his judgment today and was granted champion status. As usual, I wasn't allowed out of my tower chamber (whenever I'm out of range of the inhibiting seals, just my gaze sends all but the staunchest running for the hills), but the Chain Warden decided to pay me a visit anyway. He didn't enter the room of course, but we had an interesting conversation about the nature of fear through the half-open door.

He also mentioned something about using his lantern to feed Ahri souls which doesn't surprise me. For all her supposed reformations (although she no longer feeds on the living), she remains very soul hungry. It makes sense that League would be too eager to accept someone who could permanently take care of her "problem." I just wish that the summoners would figure out a way to suppress her more carnal desires. If Ezreal shows up to the Fields half asleep and sore from "training" (I've been on Valoran long enough to know what _that _means), I might get angry and send my crows to follow and irritate him all day.

As long as I've wondered onto the subject of bedroom exploits, I suppose it would do to share this amusing anecdote with you (I know this is being read by someone and when I catch you…I'll think of something later). The Fields of Justice were opened for a practice session due to the lack of matches as well as to introduce Thresh to his new arena. The Sinister Blade, having finished grinding several waves of minions into the dust with her blades had decided to bathe in the River for reasons that I cannot grasp. I was practicing my jungle route and was moving bush to bush when I ran into Garen. I can only assume he was practicing bushlurking, but that was not what caught my attention. The meatbag's mouth was open, his jaw slack, and his face redder than Draven's that one time he asked Sona out on a date before he knew she couldn't speak (it is reported that the normally stoic Darius laughed and pounded his table hard enough to reduce it to splinters within seconds). Naturally, I followed his gaze to discover he was ogling the bathing Du Couteau.

I took careful notice of the effect she had on him and concluded that she must have inadvertently created a new form of stunning spell. I must ask her to perform it in future matches since its effect is quite amazing. Of course, the League does not sanction improvised magic, so the next logical step would be to have the Head Summoner evaluate the spell's power before applying the necessary tweaks to make it fair to use.

Now that I've amused those of you who keep sneakily reading my diary, I suppose I should mention the other noteworthy event that occurred today. The High Council of Summoners (blowhards) decided that they would allow me out of my tower if I agreed to have my powers severely restricted. After years of isolation and boredom, I was quite willing to be put in power shackles if it meant I could wonder around outside the Fields. This shall be quite interesting.

**Several pages after this entry are filled with doodles of various commonplace objects such as plates and cups. A detailed drawing of the entry hall of the Institute of War takes up a two page spread.**

Hi Fiddle! It's Lux. You left your diary on the chair when you were summoned to the Fields. I'll return it to you once I get the chance.

Fiddlesticks, the only thing preventing me from burning this is my sister's pleas that she finds my attraction to Katarina "cute" and the fact that she promises you won't tell anyone. –Garen

Garen loves the Sinister Blade? This is too funny! I did get that date with Sona though, so joke's on Dar.

–Draaaaaven

P.S. Garen and Kat sitting in a tree S-T-A-B-B-I-N-G.

**Crude drawing of Katarina and Garen sitting on Makoai's shoulders, the Sinister Blade stabbing Garen in the throat.**

1/24

Now that my diary has been returned, thanks to Lady Crownguard's efforts, it has become clear that it has become some sort of message board for whatever champions get their hands on it. In the interest of advancing my understanding of this world, I'm debating "accidentally" leaving it lying around just to see what others may write in it. Hmm…yes, I shall do just that.

A/N: Here's the end of another woefully short chapter. I usually come up with ideas for this when I'm derping around in the jungle or playing support, so I sometimes don't remember what I thought of. I will try to make the next one longer.

P.S. Constructive criticism is quite helpful. Please help me entertain you.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry for taking so long with this one. Humor is hard to come by when playing Solo Que alone. Nevertheless, I did make this one longer and came up with a system to get these out faster next time. In addition, if any of you fine ladies and gentlemen wish to request my friendship in… ok I'm done. Basically, if you want to play with me, I play on NA servers under the summoner name Ulaire Minya (props to whoever gets the reference). Just add me and once I accept tell me you're from Fanfiction. Enjoy.

Tsunami State: Thank you for the compliment. I'll see what I can do about continuing. :P

Ttran2323: Thanks for the thoughts. Nice to see that you like it so much! :D

FreakinAssassin: Why does Talon have an account on this site? Moving on, Thanks for the compliments my friend!

pucfleck: If Fiddle was a homicidal maniac, this would be rated M and not particularly funny except for dark humor :/ I went for a light hearted comedy style with this.

Disclaimer: I don't own League of Warmog's Legends.

**February 1, 22 CLE**

After a recent rework of the Fields of Justice, many of the magical conveniences that other champions had grown accustomed to were disabled in an attempt to prevent unstable magic from wreaking havoc on the Institute. This decision was met with collective groans as all kill, death, and assist tallies from recent matches had to be done by hand by the champions themselves. After much muted grumbling, Darius had plopped himself down at a table by the bar collectively owned by Gragas and Singed along with an astronomically large pile of paperwork. I would go so far as to bet that he regretted achieving such an impressive score last match. Some might call it poetic justice.

After several hours the paperwork evened out somewhat and began to look something like the front of a castle, with two high piles at the left and right edges of the table and several even piles between them. Naturally, I was not the only one to notice this, as when Darius went for a drink Draven took the opportunity to stick a note with "Fort Darius" written on it on the front of the paper castle. This left the Hand of Noxus dumbfounded as he spent the next hour wondering why so many of the assembled champions were giggling or struggling to suppress outright laughter. Once he plowed through the piles of paperwork and discovered the note, Darius cracked a rare smile and cuffed his brother on the head.

**February 14, 22 CLE**

The League has been buzzing with activity the last few days. All have been involved in turning the stony halls into a festival of pink. I have no knowledge of this celebration, but it seems to involve a lot of a certain aforementioned color and incorrectly represented human hearts. I, Thresh, Mordekaiser, Maokai, Blitzcrank, Hecarim, Rumble, Galio, Karthus, Nautilus, Skarner, and Malphite were collectively blackmailed by all the female champions into allowing ourselves to be decorated for something called Valentine's Day. Long story short, we were swathed in pink and Thresh was politely asked (at gun, bow, crossbow, sword, and all manner of deadly instrument point) to change his lantern color to pink and to slip a sleeve over it so the light would project anatomically incorrect hearts whenever lit.

Throughout the day, ridiculous quantities of chocolate and other sweets appeared and were distributed to champions and summoners alike via minion messengers. On a side note, Talon received more than anyone else, although he may have ordered part of the metric ton of assorted sweets that arrived towed by several super minions. I observed with great interest as he promptly began to conceal boxes of candy in various nooks and crannies throughout the Institute. I think I may have inadvertently solved the great mystery of how Talon always has candy no matter where he is. I wonder how much candy is hidden in Summoner's Rift.

Although I now have begun to grasp the purpose of this holiday which seems to focus on the human emotion of "love" it also seems to be the holiday of underhanded dealings. It was hard to see and hear because of the various noises and pink streamers, but I am convinced I saw Luxanna bribe Talon with yet more sweets to lure Katarina and Garen into an isolated and windowless room before sabotaging the door's locking mechanism. Politics confuse me.

As part of the festivities, Pentakill played for free in the Institute's main hall. The room was jam packed and amazingly enough all of the occupants of the League managed to squeeze inside. It was quite a sight, the 100+ champions (minus the five band members of course) and hundreds of summoners as well as a stage squeezed into a hall designed to hold two hundred people. Luckily, I was left almost alone due to my fearsome reputation (one never appreciates the value of fear until it frees you from having to take part in a human tide).

**After several pages of small speed sketches of various couples posing, the next few pages are filled with untidy, almost unreadable scrawls of various champions in drunken stupors. **

**February 15, 22 CLE**

In a display of opposites, the day after Valentine's Day (who is Valentine and what did he do, I wonder. I shall have to research this) was unnaturally quiet. Few champions or summoners rose before noon. The career soldiers were of course up with the birds and queing for the coffee line along with the other "early risers" such as Mordekaiser, Thresh, and I. Truth be told, none of us sleep in the way humans understand, but it would unnerve most of the residents of the Institute to think that were wandering about in the dead of night so we remain unmoving in our respective residences until first light. We find this policy inconvenient, but better than total imprisonment by the magic of the summoners.

The League itself is still strewn with yesterdays decorations even though many have been obliterated from last night's concert. Streamers form a carpet of pink interspersed with the multitude of red paper hearts and multicolored candy wrappers, although our little group (Mordekaiser, Thresh, and I have decided to form what humans seem to call a "gang") is convinced that the majority of wrappers originate from Talon.

In other post-holiday events, Mordekaiser almost crushed Teemo as he lay passed out on one of the cafeteria benches from the nights festivities while perfectly camouflaged.

He didn't "almost crush" me. He _actually sat _on me until my muted screams attracted Thresh's attention and he casually informed that hunk of metal while sipping coffee that "your seat appears to be crying out in pain. I suggest displacing yourself." – A squashed Teemo

A/N: Please point out any errors/make suggestions for improvement. Until next time.


End file.
